


Day 7: Jazz x Prowl Dialogue prompt

by ivorycrawler



Series: IvoryCrawler's 2020 Kinktober [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Grinding, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M, No Beta, No beta we die like Starscream, Romance, Smutober, frottage?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26885962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivorycrawler/pseuds/ivorycrawler
Summary: Sometimes love isn't expressed in big smiles or grand physical gestures.  Sometimes it's in a shared melody or mutual respect for another's needs.  It doesn't make it less intense as Jazz proves when he grinds one out against Prowl when he's so filled with that same love.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl
Series: IvoryCrawler's 2020 Kinktober [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950028
Kudos: 14





	Day 7: Jazz x Prowl Dialogue prompt

**Author's Note:**

> I love transformers. It's legit so much easier for me to write since it's basically my #1 obsession for a fandom. And of course writing my favorite characters makes it even easier. 
> 
> This is a dialogue prompt that my friends found for me for this month and it just felt so right.

Day 7

Jazz x Prowl

Prompt: “You gotta stop doing that.” “What?” “Saying things that make me wanna kiss you.”

Jazz waltzed into Prowl’s office and headed straight around his desk to stand next to him. Prowl barely looked up at him, his door wings flicking quite deliberately in acknowledgment. Jazz waited, not patiently, for Prowl to finish whatever had his attention and to pay attention to him. It was vital. He needed his attention, the ice blue optics on him ASAP. 

Barely four clicks later Prowl turned his chair to Jazz and looked up at him expectantly, his field warm and welcoming though his face didn’t reflect it.

Not that Jazz needed it after what Prowl had done. And with the reminder he launched himself into Prowl’s lap, servos reaching around Prowl’s neck to bring him close to him, his own field fluctuating with warmth, heat, infatuation, surprise, and need.

“Ya gotta stop doin’ that.” Jazz told him, one servo creeping down from Prowl’s neck to the back hinges of his door wings.

“What? You need to be clearer.” Prowl’s servos gripped onto Jazz’s hips, pulling him closer and keeping the balance with two mechs on his chair.

“Sayin’ things tha’ make me wanna kiss ya.” Jazz growled next to Prowl’s audio, done with him playing coy.

“If I was doing something of that nature, I would have to tell you no, I will not stop. Perhaps I am even doing it because it makes you want to kiss me.” Prowl’s door wings flicked at the sensation of Jazz’s digits digging into the hinges, stroking the sensitive sensors there, no longer holding back now that Prowl wasn’t playing coy any longer. Which, if he wasn’t playing coy about it, then he’d give him what he wanted.

Kissing was something that they had learned from humans, but adding a bit of static from building charge made it a warm pleasure for cybertronians, and the two of them had taken to it well.

Jazz ground down onto Prowl’s lap as they kissed, his codpiece already hot but since Prowl still had work to do, he knew they wouldn’t be opening up here. Not that they couldn’t overload like this anyway.

Prowl broke the kiss to pull Jazz’s head down to be able to mouth at his audio horn, servos moving to the seams in his chest, trusting Jazz to keep his own balance and allow him more room to grind their codpieces together.

This wasn’t going to be slow, methodical lovemaking, or a purposeful scene with one in control of the pleasure of them both. This was fast, rough, digits digging into seams, hitting sensors with a precision born of decavorns of experience. They’d have a mess to clean up when they finished, Jazz could feel his valve lubricate enough that it was leaking from the seams, marking Prowl’s codpiece with not just his paint. 

Charge flitted over their frames as they pushed each other higher and higher to overload, love, heat, obsession pulsing through their fields.

Only scraping could be heard occasionally over their fans, both vocalizers off for the mid-shift romp. The sound of paint transfer and the hitch in fans was just enough, with one more solid bite to his audial horn, Jazz overloaded, static and charge cascading over his frame and into Prowl. His optics whited out making his visor flash before dimming as his overload kept going and going thanks to Prowl’s own charge still raising higher and higher.

Until it couldn’t.

Prowl overloaded with a soft grunt, leaning back into his chair as his own codpiece couldn’t hold back the mess he was making, transfluid dripping from the seams to his chair.

Finally, the charge eased off, their fans running frantically to cool their frames. They traded condensation on their frames as Jazz leaned into Prowl, resting for a moment before pulling out two cleaning clothes and starting to wipe Prowl down and them himself. The paint transfers took a bit of buffing but with the transfluid and lubricant, it wasn’t too hard. Not ideal cleaning liquids but it did the job for now.

He stored the clothes, once both of them were present-able, in his subspace, opening another to reach in and pull out a handwritten note.

“Ya know I love when ya woo me wit’ ya big brain and sparklin’ words.” the datapad held not just a poem, but one with a melody that Prowl had written for him. It was complex enough to challenge Jazz, and rather methodical, but it had space for him to include his special form of unpredictable, chaotic melodies as well. To make something that was from both of them, for him. 

Prowl had done many sparkfelt actions like this, and each one always made Jazz’s spark spin like crazy, like the first time. He felt slaggin lucky to have Prowl, and according to this song, the feeling was mutual.

“Perhaps I like to woo you.” Prowl countered, his lips twitching in what could be a smile. His field spoke everything for what his face couldn’t, pleased, loving, satisfied, much more relaxed.

“When ya’re shift is done, Ah’m gonna blow yer processor to bits wit’ how good Ah’m gonna frag ya inta our berth.” Jazz promised, giving Prowl one last kiss. The static exchange with that sultry voice was enough to cause the barest of shivers in Prowl’s door wings. 

“I look forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't noticed, I like a lot of romance, love, and/or fluff in my smut. I write what I like and what I need and though I love reading the rougher, degrading, somewhat questionable smut, I just don't write it as often.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! Comments welcome as well as requests. Happy Smutober!


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